


the spaces between my fingers were made for yours to fit in

by prettyskylark



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 21:46:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6346573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyskylark/pseuds/prettyskylark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was when Ronan realized that Adam Parrish, subconsciously or not, wanted to be held. And Ronan would be damned if he at least didn’t try to give this boy what he deserved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the spaces between my fingers were made for yours to fit in

**Author's Note:**

> a thing occured to me and it evolved into adam craving hand-holding. also this is my first fic for trc fandom so pls be gentle. it has never seen a beta so all mistakes are obv mine. also i needed to express a bit of my love for the movie they're watching and my huge boner for james mcavoy who has beautiful blue eyes and freckles like someone else guess who *cough* *cough*. so there's that.  
> you can find me http://ohhthereuare.tumblr.com/ and while my blog has been and always will be about klaine, it's been kept hostage by these raven losers for some time now so if you want to cry with me about them, especially about these two, it's more than welcomed <3

For somebody other than Ronan Lynch, it must not have been that obvious, but then again, nobody took this much time observing one Adam Parrish.

It all started with Ronan’s fixation-- and honestly, there was no better word for it-- with Adam’s hands. His long, slender fingers, knuckles prominent, skin dry, chapped, broken and so wonderful. Most of Ronan’s dream, the more pleasant ones anyway, revolved around those hands. Sometimes tracing the black lines of his tattoo, moving up his scalp or down his toned torso—these were the dreams that left him hot and panting and sweaty, with a burning shame thrumming in his veins just underneath lust. But most of the time, and Ronan didn’t like these any less, he dreamt of Adam’s hands holding his. Just the warm pressure of his palm against Ronan’s.

Maybe that was way Ronan noticed the way Adam’s hands seemed always restless, always moving. At first he attributed it to them constantly working on cars and school assignments or keeping themselves warm (because Parrish never wore any goddamned gloves), never having the time to rest. Then he realized it wasn’t much about the movement itself, it was about the thought behind it. How his fingers would brush against each other, or slide to his wrists and back. How he would clasp his palms together, run his thumb over a bone and let go. That was when Ronan realized that Adam Parrish, subconsciously or not, wanted to be held. And Ronan would be damned if he at least didn’t try to give this boy what he deserved.

***

It was dark by the time Ronan picked Adam up from the garage. It was a Friday night, no major homework was due for the next week and there was nothing left in him but exhaustion. The moment he was enveloped by the welcoming warmth of the BMW, he leant against the window and closed his eyes. He didn’t say anything to Ronan, just hummed. The other boy hummed in response.

He must have dozed off for a moment, because the next thing he knew, they were pulling off in the Monmouth parking lot. He raised his brow at Ronan silently.

“Just gotta grab my laptop and a blanket because I don’t wanna freeze to death in that shitbox of yours. You comin’ or what?”

Monmouth was empty, the only indication of Gansey’s never-leaving presence being the books scattered everywhere across the floor and his model of Henrietta, still unfinished, resting in the middle of the mess. Sometimes Adam thought Gansey didn’t work hard enough on purpose, he would have finished the job ages ago if he did, only because he liked devoting his time to it so much, perfecting every little detail of his beloved town. Like a king taking care of his land.

Adam stayed by the door while Ronan stormed off to his bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. Adam could see the curtains drew closed, covering the room in velvety darkness. The single streak of light coming from the main area illuminated the wonders littering Ronan’s floor that he never bothered to pick up.

“It’s a great movie.”

Maybe it was thanks to his Cabeswater-enhanced senses or maybe because he grew accustomed to it, Adam first felt an icy presence then heard Noah’s voice, so he didn’t even flinch when his friend appeared on his right.

“What?”

“The one you’re gonna be watching tonight. Plus Ronan’s got a _huge_ crush on James McAvoy, with his dreamy blue eyes and freck—“

Something big and white flew in front of Adam and hit Noah square in the face. After a moment he realized it was a pillow and it must have been the closest thing that was to Ronan at the moment.

“Rude.” Noah only said, but his eyes were still shining mischievously, before disappearing.

Ronan came out of his room with a laptop under his arms and hands full of the fluffiest blanket Adam has ever seen. It must have been dreamed up, like most things in Ronan Lynch’s life.

“C’mon, loser. Back to the car.”

Had Adam been more awake, he would have noticed the blush spreading itself down Ronan’s neck.

***

Adam never wasted any time on pondering on his needs.

Sure, he counted every penny he could spend on groceries or how much time he could spend under the shower. He knew just how much work needed to be done and how many hours of sleep (not many) he could squeeze in between. But the question _what do you want Adam?_ that rang around his head every so often only focused on the stuff that he needed to get by, to _survive_. Worrying about anything else when he often felt like he would not live to see another day was simply a waste of his precious time.

Any human being needed warmth and comfort, he knew that too. But by being his father’s son, he knew nothing of touch that didn’t hurt, of hands that didn’t leave bruises. That’s why, as soon as things with Blue had started to seem a little bit more serious (as serious as they could have been, which was, not much), he had taken his chance and absorbed any warmth she’d been willing to give him. Looking back on things now, when bitterness wasn’t a permanent taste in his mouth, he knew he’d been foolish. It was never going to be him. Blue, wonderful and strong and fierce Blue, was raised in love and acceptance. Adam had wanted to build himself up on her strength and all it did was bring her down with him. But he’d been greedy, and so, so tired, and so he’d taken her hand as much as he could to soak up some of the love he was lacking in his bones.

Adam and Ronan were sitting on his shitty mattress now, in his shitty apartment, pressed together from shoulder to toe under the blanket Ronan had brought (he only growled once about freezing his ass off while spread the blanket on both of their shoulders and didn’t look at Adam while doing so), a shiny black laptop resting on Ronan’s thighs. The only real light was the one coming from the screen, casting a weird blueish glow on their faces. It made Ronan’s features incredibly sharp, his cheekbones standing out from his face like rocks on a shore and for a moment Adam wondered if he traced his fingers against them, would he see blood from his cut flesh. He quickly shook himself from it and twisted his hands on his lap, preventing himself from doing anything stupid.

The movie was good, it was called ‘Atonement’ and the main actor was indeed kinda cute. The plot took Adam’s mind from his problems, which he was grateful for. At the moment the family was eating dinner and the tension between the main characters and the younger sister was so thick one could cut through it with an axe, after what she had witnessed in the library (Adam pointedly did not look at Ronan during that scene, though he couldn’t help his cheeks reddening, especially not with the way Ronan’s body was radiating heat through his clothes and seeping directly into Adam’s bones). They were worried about the parents finding out about the letter and Adam was worried with them. Suddenly a close shot under the table showed their hands touching gently in a reassuring manner and something in Adam ached painfully. He watched mesmerized how their fingers longed to intertwine and his own realization dawned on him, that that was all he truly wanted. Adam was a teenage boy and his body had needs, that one was true, but all he wanted in his _soul_ , was to be cared for in a way that left no doubts. Not by walking on eggshells around him, not by avoiding the uncomfortable, but by facing the problems hand in hand. All he wanted was kindness and the warmth of somebody’s touch, somebody who understood him. His unknowable self.

The movie came to an end and he felt his eyelids dropping against his will. Ronan snickered beside him while closing the laptop.

“C’mon Parrish, bed time. If you stay up any longer you may actually pass out on me here and we both know our Gansey mom will not be pleased with that.”

Adam crawled under the covers, his limbs heavy and his mind barely conscious. The pale moonlight was flowing through the small window and he watched in semi-darkness how Ronan took a pillow and started getting his place on the floor ready.

Adam’s hand reached out on its own accord and his fingers wrapped themselves around Ronan’s wrist.

“Don’t.”

As far as he could tell, Ronan’s face was scrunched in utter confusion. The taller boy glanced nervously at Adam’s hands still tugging on his.

“Don’t what, Parrish?”

“Just—“ Adam sighted. He couldn’t do this any more. “Just get in here.”

“In here meaning _where_ —“

“For fuck’s sake, Lynch, just get into the fucking bed.”

He could hear Ronan murmuring something about somebody having a _potty mouth_ and normally he would have laughed because _kettle, meet pot._ But Adam stayed silent and watched as Ronan slid under the covers and threw the fluffy blanket on top, before moving as far away from Adam as it was possible on his narrow bed.

“Goodnight, Ronan.”

“Goodnight, Adam.”

It felt weird and it didn’t. Ronan had spent so many night on the floor and Adam would sometimes wonder what would it be like if he moved just a bit to the left and lay his body next to his. In his mind it always felt like a thunderstorm, like an avalanche and an earthquake, everything that was Ronan Lynch. A force of nature, an untamable spirit. But it came with quiet breathing and soft shuffling, with cold feet tentatively pressing against calves and slow-building heat.

Just before sleep took over his senses,  he felt a light pressure against the tips of his fingers. One finger brushing, then slightly curling against his. He moved his hand and when his pinky finger intertwined with Ronan’s, he felt rather than heard the other boy gasping.

When Adam woke up in the morning, the sun high on the brilliant blue sky, warming the small apartment above the St. Agnes church and making small dots of dust dance in the air, the first thing his hazy mind registered was Ronan’s hand holding tightly onto his. He smiled and let himself stay like this for another moment with his eyes closed.


End file.
